Re/Paired (Doms of the FBI Book 2) (33 page)

Giving her an order when Malcolm was ready to tear his head from his body probably wasn’t the best way to get her out of the room. She took the bag from him, but instead of leaving them alone in the foyer, she stepped between them.

“Malcolm, be reasonable. I’m an adult, and so is Keith. If we want to be together, and we’re happy, how can you honestly object to that?”

His heart broke a little, because he heard the anguish in her voice. It redirected some of the steam in Malcolm’s sails as well.

“Trina.” The growl was gone, replaced with a soft tone that left no doubt that Malcolm didn’t blame her for this. “You have no idea what you’re getting into. Whatever lies he’s told you—”

“He hasn’t lied to me.” She squared her shoulders.

Malcolm closed his eyes, and Keith knew he was counting to control his temper. Kat had been right about one thing: having her here did make Mal more rational. If she had gone when either of them told her to, Mal would have thrown a punch by now. Keith wasn’t afraid of fighting with Malcolm. The two of them had come to blows before. They were well matched.

“If I agree to sit down and discuss this, will you listen to me, Trina? I mean really listen?”

“Yes.” She put up a hand when he stepped toward her. “But you have to agree to listen to both Keith and me as well.”

Grudgingly Malcolm nodded.

“Rules.” Kat moved so that she could see both of them. “No physical violence, and no name-calling.”

They both peered at her curiously.

She pressed her lips together. “I’ve seen the way you two talk out your problems. It almost always involves bruising.”

“No physical violence, and no name-calling.” Keith would agree to anything right now as long as it made her happy.

Malcolm’s face didn’t move a muscle as he growled his agreement. Kat must have trusted them both, because she took the bag into the kitchen. She was stowing the ice cream as he entered the room and slid onto one of the high stools at his island counter. Mal took the one next to him. Strategically it blocked Kat’s view if either of them felt like punching the other in the thigh.

The bag was on the counter between them. When she looked inside for more items to put away, her tense expression melted. She gazed at him with a tender smile that tugged at his heart. “Really?”

Malcolm snatched the plastic bag and peered inside. “Nail polish? What the hell kind of kink is that?” Then he appeared to rethink his question. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. It doesn’t matter, because it ends right now.”

Kat extracted the bag from Mal’s grasp. “You’re such a pervert sometimes.”

Normally one of them would make a joke about her “sometimes” qualification. This time nobody did.

“Listen, Mal, I know you’re upset. Keith wanted to tell you right away, but you had just started speaking to him again, and I couldn’t bear the thought of coming between you and your best friend.” Her bottom lip trembled the tiniest bit, and Keith noticed that the tired circles under her eyes had darkened.

“So keeping this from me was your idea? When did you plan on letting me in on this little secret?” To his credit, Malcolm managed to keep his tone neutral.

“Thursday. I was going to invite you and Darcy over for dinner, and we were going to tell you then.” She searched Malcolm’s face anxiously. “I was going to tell Mom and Dad first. They like Keith.”

Most of this was news to Keith, but he did like her plan. Darcy was a good influence on Malcolm, and Mama L and Papa L would probably approve of the relationship. Kat needed people on her side. At any rate, it would have been a good plan if Mal hadn’t stopped by unexpectedly. Until now, that had never been an issue. Malcolm was always welcome at Keith’s house no matter what else he had going on at the time. Lately, Mal hadn’t dropped by. He was busy with Darcy, and Keith had been busy with Kat.

Malcolm turned to Keith. “Are you sure you want her here for this? What I have to say isn’t exactly nice.”

No, it wouldn’t be. But Mal wouldn’t say anything about his previous relationships that Kat didn’t already know. Keith spread his hands. “You tried kicking her out. I knew better. Kat is her own woman. She does what she wants.”

Mal’s brows lifted in surprise. “And you’re okay with that? Because I know how you like to control every little detail concerning your submissives when they’re with you. What they wear, what they eat, when they eat, when they sleep, where and how they sleep, what they say, who they can talk to—”

“Enough.” Kat parked her hands on her hips. “I knew he was a Dom going into this.”

“But you don’t know what that means, Trina. That’s my point. He’s not like me, or even Dustin or Jordan. For Keith, it’s all about control. He could care less about what his submissives want. It’s all about him. Why do you think none of his relationships last more than a week or two? It’s not a healthy way to live.”

“He treats his girlfriends like shit. I know.” When Malcolm opened his mouth, Keith knew it was to drive home his point. She held her hand up to stop Mal. “I don’t know why you think I would let him get away with treating me like that. It was hard at first, sure, but he adjusted quickly.”

Keith chuckled at her characterization of events. She’d learned a lot, and she’d made a ton of changes, but she’d chosen to focus on him. It was so like her to minimize her role.

Mal punched him under the counter. “You think this is funny?”

“Kat makes me laugh.” He spread his hands wide on top of the counter, making no move to retaliate. He’d get Mal back, but now wasn’t the time. Kat would kill him if this degenerated into an actual fight. “That’s just one of the things I adore about her.”

“Adore? You have no respect for the women you date. The fact that they are willing to go out with you automatically makes you hate them. I love you, man, but I’ve known you for too long to think you can suddenly be the kind of man my sister deserves. And you know I’m right.”

Keith scowled. He’d used that argument with Kat already, and she’d shown him how wrong he was. How could he prove to Malcolm that Kat made him a new man?

“That’s mean, Mal. Keith has been good to me for eleven years. Sure, he tried to be a dickhead when we first got together, but I put a stop to that right away.”

Malcolm narrowed his eyes. “A dickhead? What did he do to you?”

Kat blushed a little, bringing some color back to her face. She still looked tired, though. “Don’t ask, Mal. Just trust me to keep him in line.”

“You can’t.” Malcolm shook his head. “He’s too messed up. Maybe you think he’ll change for you, and he might do it for a week or two, but ultimately, he is who he is.” Turning to face Keith, Malcolm looked tired too. “You’re an alcoholic who doesn’t trust a single woman. We talked about this years ago when you promised to leave my sister alone. She’s liked you since the first time I brought you home. What’s changed?”

In all the scenarios he’d run through his mind, Keith hadn’t seriously thought that Malcolm would mention his addiction. He checked Kat to gauge her reaction. She was frowning, but he couldn’t pin down the exact cause. The entire conversation had to be uncomfortable for her. She hated confrontation.

“I asked him to train me; that’s what happened. Then when he turned me down, I asked Dustin. He turned me down too. I was going to ask Jordan next, but Keith got mad and agreed to train me. It grew from there.” She ended with a flippant smile.

Malcolm looked like he was about to have a stroke. “You asked him to train you? Then you asked Darcy to show you how to use a flogger. Why? Keith doesn’t switch. Unless… Oh.” Shades of bafflement washed over Mal’s face until he arrived at a conclusion that seemed to leave him with just as many questions. He nailed Keith with his most probing stare. “You’re willing to let her flog you.”

Keith nodded. “It was her idea, but yeah, when she’s ready.”

“You trust her?”

Kat punched Mal hard on his arm. Apparently only he and Mal were prohibited from violence. “Of course he trusts me.”

Malcolm ignored it, though Keith knew she packed a wallop. He held Keith’s gaze and waited for an answer.

“I trust her. And I respect her. I like her a lot, and I find her very attractive. It’s not the same with her, Mal. You made me promise to stay away from the one woman who doesn’t buy my bullshit. She makes me want to be a better man.” His cheeks felt hot, and he hoped to hell he was coming down with a fever. He motioned to the plastic bag near Kat. “She asked me to paint her toenails and watch a chick flick, and I said yes.”

For ten silent seconds, Malcolm stared at him, his hard expression etched on his face. Then he laughed and shook his head. “Holy shit. You’re serious.”

“Yeah. I am.” His chest constricted a little. The people in this room were his whole world. “This is serious, the real thing. I wouldn’t risk our friendship if it wasn’t.”

Malcolm nodded thoughtfully, his expression softening with acceptance.

Kat flew around the counter and threw herself at Malcolm. She hugged her brother tightly. “I knew I could get you to see reason.”

Malcolm hugged her back. “I’m reserving judgment, Trina.” That hardness was back as he nailed a warning to Keith’s forehead with his stare. “I’m not completely convinced yet. You’re a sweet, generous person, and if he takes advantage of that or breaks your heart, I will kill him.”

If he broke her heart, Malcolm wouldn’t have to worry about that. Keith would take care of that himself. He didn’t take issue with the threat. “So, what brings you over on such a lovely afternoon? You never just stop by anymore.”

Mal hugged Kat harder. “I came to tell you the person they arrested was not Trina’s stalker, which I pointed out to Dustin the moment I got hold of him.”

Kat pushed away and staggered back. Keith caught her before she could trip and drew her close to him. She stared at Malcolm, her wide eyes edged with panic. “What happened?”

“First, the person they picked up has no semen, which we found in trace amounts in your underwear drawer.”

Her face twisted in horror. “Oh, ewww. That thing needs to get out of my house now.”

Malcolm frowned. “It was Grandma’s, and it’s been cleaned. If you don’t want it, you’d better give it back to Mom and Dad. Also, the woman Dustin arrested turned out to be Starr Rossetti.”

That curveball puzzled Keith. His mother was a drunk, not a criminal. She’d never even gotten a DUI. She didn’t drive at all; she used public transportation. “My mother? Why the hell was she breaking into Kat’s house?”

“She claims she wasn’t breaking in. She was just trying to see if Trina was home. Apparently she had some news to impart. She’s not saying anything more unless it’s to Trina. Interesting way to ask for a lawyer.” Malcolm stood. “She’s in the county lockup. I came over to see if Trina wanted to go down there and talk to her.”

Kat looked to him for guidance. He could tell she wanted to find out what his mother wanted. She was thinking of his sister’s kids, worry etched in the tiny lines around her pale mouth. He wondered when it would hit her that her stalker was still out there. From Dustin’s description of the damage done to her condo, the stalker had definitely been there. He’d used her lipstick and eyeliner to scrawl “bitch” on every wall in her condo.

“We can go, but we’re not staying long. You already look wiped out, Kitty Kat.” He ran a light caress down her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his palm.

“Give me a minute.” She disappeared into the bathroom.

Malcolm regarded him with a strange expression on his face. “It’s weird to hear you talk like that.”

Keith had never before called a woman by a nickname. He pointed a warning finger at Malcolm. “Don’t start.”

“Good weird. Refreshing. I’d about given up on you.” Mal chucked him on the shoulder. “Still, if you break her heart, they’ll never find your body.”

__________

This was the strangest day in Katrina’s life. Good and bad things had happened, and she didn’t quite know how to feel about it overall. She entered the tiny interrogation room knowing that a team of special agents—including her brother and Keith—were watching. Keith had wanted to come with her, but Katrina had the feeling his mother wouldn’t talk as freely if he was in the room.

Starr sat on the other side of the metal table, handcuffed to a rectangular bar that was welded to the tabletop. Her lip was curled in disgust, but other than that, she looked no different than she had five days ago when she’d stopped Katrina on the street.

“Hi, Starr. How are you?”

“In jail. I ain’t never been in jail before. They think I was trying to break into your house.”

Dustin had shown Katrina the evidence. Her door had been kicked in, and somebody had searched through her house. The mess was going to take some time to clean up, and the epithets on the walls made her stomach churn. Worse, the trajectory of the cameras outside her condo had been moved. It appeared that whoever had done this knew where the cameras were placed and how to approach them unseen in order to disable them.

For those reasons Katrina believed Starr. The woman didn’t seem like much of a planner. “What were you doing in my house?

The recovered footage showed Starr skulking around the parking lot, glancing about furtively, and then she disappeared as she got closer to Katrina’s place.

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